


Gossip

by Phantomato



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: About other people’s relationships, F/M, Severus is a jerk, They just talk a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25345636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantomato/pseuds/Phantomato
Summary: This fic has been abandoned.—Severus and Hermione like to gossip about other people. What starts as a diversion from research leads them to recognize more about themselves and their relationship.This story is told almost entirely in the form of dialogue between Hermione and Severus, because my favorite part of HG/SS is watching those two brains just go at it.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 26
Kudos: 107





	1. Ron and Pansy

“I couldn’t believe a person like that would bother attending an academic lecture. I haven’t seen someone so dismissive of Ethical Philosophies of Long-Term Glamour Charms since Ron and I were together.” Hermione ranted, again betraying her tendency to seize on criticism, rather than acknowledge her own success. Severus sighed and diverted the conversation before it could spiral.

“What happened between Ron and yourself, anyway?”

At this question, both paused. Hermione rarely alluded to her personal life during their acquaintance; Severus had never engaged with any personal topics for the five years they’d known each other. 

Severus and Hermione had been re-introduced by Filius when the erstwhile Professor Flitwick had supervised her Charms mastery. Initially, they met irregularly and at Filius’ prompting in order to provide each other an external sounding board for their research ideas. As the years went on, and Hermione graduated from apprentice to master and independent researcher, their association had become a standing weekly appointment. Severus arrived at her flat for tea each Friday afternoon with a gift of pastry and a binder containing his latest project, and he left precisely two hours later. They never talked between meetings, and they never talked about anything other than their own research for more than a few minutes, but the arrangement served Severus well, and he planned to continue it for as long as Hermione was willing to play host. Their acquaintance seemed to amuse Minerva, as well, and Severus was pleased for anything that lessened her fussing over him.

But despite the length of their relationship, Severus still felt it was tenuous—he knew Hermione only professionally. Crossing that line with a question like the one he had asked was dangerous, and he was searching for a way to take it back when she started to answer.

“You taught him, what do you think?” A hint of challenge, then. He could continue down this path if he did so carefully. Severus always met his challenges.

“Mr Weasley was intellectually ill-suited to you, and surely even your insufferable younger self recognized that.” An eye-roll, but she hadn’t physically drawn back yet. He continued, “But intellectual compatibility isn’t everything, and you two had been orbiting each other for years. All of the teaching staff could tell that you would date at some point. Pomona was quite pulling for you two to make it long-term, but Minerva was surprisingly unenthusiastic.” Her eyes widened slightly, and her head had tilted forward. Severus was now fully safe to continue with this conversation, and if that was exciting, it was the thrill of expanding outside of Hermione’s set boundaries. He would have enough room to pry.

“I suppose that I am curious as to why your relationship ended after some years spent together. Intellectual incompatibility alone would have ended you sooner, but you were still dating when you began your Charms apprenticeship, were you not?” You were still dating Mr Weasley when we were first reacquainted, his mind supplied.

“Mm. I was, I’m surprised you remember that. You’re correct that it was an accumulation of incompatibilities, not just the one thing, and though that meant we unraveled more slowly, it also saved us from an insurmountable rift. It took us a couple of years, but Ron and I are good friends again. And anyway, Ron and I together are much less interesting than who Ron is carrying on with now!” Her gleeful pivot was transparent and incredibly effective. The Prophet had been resolutely unable to report on the Golden Trio’s lives post-War, the three apparently having become too clever by half, and Severus could smell valuable information being offered.

“And who might that be?” He offered, affecting disinterest.

“One Miss Pansy Parkinson.”

Well, fuck. “Miss Parkinson? I will not be made the fool, Miss Granger.”

“Hermione. But truly, it’s Pansy. Actually, I introduced them at one of those Ministry events three years ago. It’s not public, and I don’t know if they’re even official with each other yet, but trust, it’s happening. It will happen. I peg a public engagement at two years from now, and they will likely avoid any publicity until that announcement.”

“But Mr Weasley and Miss Parkinson? What would be the basis for any compatibility between them? I could not imagine two more different individuals.”

Her smile was an offering, a reassurance. This gossip must be an opportunity for her, too. “Ron wants certain things in a relationship, as you might imagine, being a Weasley. He wants a nurturing wife who keeps house, he wants a gaggle of children, he wants to be the adored paternal head of a loving family.”

Severus snorted. “I have a growing sense of your many incompatibilities.” She rewarded him with a casual laugh.

“Yes, well. Thing is, Ron wants to be Arthur, but he’s also the youngest son of a huge family, and his brothers are each impressive and talented individuals with years more than him to establish themselves. Ron’s got a heap of insecurities that would make his Arthur Weasley-shaped fantasy life completely impossible.” Severus was leaning towards her now, abandoning his stiff posture for a blatant expression of interest. Hermione had a fantastic mind, and here, for the first time, she was applying it to analyzing other people. It was magical.

“So what Ron wants in a relationship wouldn’t make him as happy as what he needs. Or, maybe, what he craves. He might never be able to say this, but he craves a partner who is insistent enough to oppose those wants. She should still want to get married and raise a family, of course, but she needs to recognize that she will never outshine Molly’s domesticity in Ron’s mind, and she needs to not try that. She needs to want children—and this was one of my failings—“ An interesting point of emphasis, Severus noted, “—but she needs to cut him off at two, perhaps three, children. He would be devastated to see his insecurities as one of seven children in any of his own.”

“None of what you are suggesting constitutes a controversial life choice, Miss Granger. Nor have you yet explained what Miss Parkinson contributes.”

“Hermione. And oh, Severus, don’t you see? This is controversial if you’re a Weasley. Ginny’s pregnant with her third and she’s younger than me. Fleur, the most elegant woman I’ve ever met—she could have flourished as a Malfoy, even!—settled into a version of domestic maternity upon marrying Bill. Charlie fled England to avoid family expectations. Percy supported the Voldemort administration to manage the same.” His slight flinch was lost to her fervor. “George lost his twin, a magical twin, and he’s still expected to keep up. So, short of drastic measures, Ron is fully expected to carry on the family tradition.”

“Pansy is that drastic measure. She’s mildly controversial, as a scion of a pureblood family that had ties to the Dark side in the war, but that’s not really the reason Ron and her make a good pair. It’s not the controversy of a Weasley and a Parkinson, it’s that Pansy is perfectly equipped to guide Ron out from under his family expectations. She’s doubtless wanted children since she was a child, but could you imagine Pansy having six kids? She’s likely never cooked for herself in her life, but she’ll run a good household, one that hosts important people for tea and runs a great Easter ball, if the Malfoys still get Christmas.”

“The Malfoys will always get Christmas. And I see your trajectory for them, now. They are married in the next three years. She has two children by her early thirties, at which point she suggests that his career—“

“He took over Fred’s half of the joke shop, yes,” she interjected.

“—should not be put on hold any longer, and another baby would take too much attention. She emphasizes his importance and value as head of the family, and they stay at two children. She cements her family in society for the next decade, until the children start Hogwarts, at which point they are an alarmingly well-respected branch of the Weasleys. Weasley-Parkinson children get sorted into Slytherin and the world burns. The end.”

“You would!” Hermione playfully slapped his arm, laughing at Severus’ expression of horror. He froze. She had never touched him before. Five years of taking tea together, and in one day, she started gossiping and casually touching him. Severus pulled back quickly, resuming his stiff posture and hoping she didn’t take offense. 

“Miss Granger. I see your argument for how Ron benefits from this relationship. He would escape the burdens of being a Weasley, and living with the wealth and social position of a Parkinson is a damn sight more appealing than what he might otherwise expect from life. However, Miss Parkinson was once under my care, and I have yet to be convinced that she personally benefits from an arrangement with Mr Weasley.”

“Severus!” Hermione breathed his name, too scandalized that he would still carry a grudge against Ron to correct his formal address. “Ron would be a fantastic partner for Pansy. I admit I don’t know her as well as the man I dated for years, but I know Ron is a loving, affectionate person who values his partners as equals. He’ll be an involved and caring father who spares no expense for his children. And he’s handsome, tall, and strong, at that.” Severus found himself irritable at the endless listing of Ronald Weasley’s positive traits, but truly, this conversational turn had been his own fault. He waved her on impatiently.

“Well, anyway. He’s a good man, but what matters is that he and Pansy are clearly in love. The whole thing wouldn’t have worked without that, but they are, and it did. They don’t know that I know, yet, but he treats her like she’s precious, and she looks at him like she’s the luckiest woman alive, and it’s sickeningly cute. I think they’ll always be an odd couple, but I think they fit like the other’s missing pieces in so many ways.” 

Her determination faded, though, and she sighed. “And Pansy runs cool, where Ron runs hot. When they fight, he won’t explode. She’ll calm him down. That will do more to keep them together than all the rest. I—I never managed that.”

Severus chilled. Hermione had answered his initial question, and though he should have anticipated that the end of a relationship was always a bad topic for casual conversation, he never had become proficient at social interactions. Ah, well.

He stood and began to clear their dishes from the table. He would pack away the remaining scones for Hermione to enjoy tomorrow. Severus liked to imagine Hermione on Saturday morning, still partially asleep and the furthest thing from domestic proficiency that he had ever met, being grateful for her research companion’s generosity with baked goods. 

“Miss Granger, thank you for your hospitality today. I’m afraid I’ve quite overstayed my usual welcome.”

“It’s Hermione, please, Severus. After five years, you’ve earned the right to use my given name and to stay an hour extra sometimes. Thanks for coming by—I’ll see you soon.”


	2. Harry and Ginny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel I should note that Hermione and Severus’ opinions are their own! I think they both bring their own life experiences to whatever insights they have about other people.

“It’s disconcerting that he married his mother, you know.”

“Hm?” Severus inquired, having been absorbed with making notes on her treatise about the gendered associations of different families of charms. She’d entirely missed the movement to recontextualize appearance-altering charms as an expression of late 20th-century masculinity, of course.

“Harry, Severus. I was talking about Harry’s newborn, Lily. I mean, I love Harry, but he marries a woman who looks almost exactly like his own mum, then names his children after his mum and dad. The man is obsessed with his parents.”

“As I recall, his second son’s name is even worse than James Sirius.”

“Well, Albus is certainly an old-fashioned given name, but I’ve long had a soft spot for Severus.” Hermione’s cheeks were tinged slightly pink at the admission. Strange, Severus thought. He couldn’t see an immediate reason for her flattery, and Severus had always been discomfited by lingering obligation. He decided to ignore the comment, and she soon continued.

“Anyway, Ginny looks like Lily, Harry is notoriously a physical clone of his father, and you don’t find that at all weird?”

Ah. She was determined to poke the beast. Severus and Hermione had begun to talk more freely after their first afternoon of gossip, but had avoided anything of note until today, their first meeting after the birth of the newest Potter. Apparently, Hermione thought today was a good time to root around Severus’ notoriously sensitive personal history through the guise of _his_ Lily’s own child. Severus would talk circles around her, even about Harry Potter, before submitting to that.

“Miss Weasley—“

“Oh, come off it. It’s Mrs Potter now, you know that, but you should be calling her Ginny.”

“—may look like Lily Evans,” _always Evans_ , “but she is entirely dissimilar from Lily. Miss Wea—Ginevra fawned after Harry Potter for nearly a decade before she wore him down enough to settle. She’s made it her life mission to marry Potter, and she’s cementing her place with him in pure Weasley fashion. Lily would have never.”

“Severus.” Her tone, and indeed her expression, were deeply not amused by his dismissal of Ginevra Potter. “Harry and Ginny are some of my dearest friends, and if you can’t be civil about them, perhaps we should end our time together for today.”

Oh, he was chastened. Severus had only been at her place for an hour, and their second cup of tea was still warm. He’d purchased the chocolate torte he liked best and he would not leave before enjoying a slice. Perhaps it was time to serve the pastry, if he was skating on thin ice with this conversation.

“How large a slice, Miss Granger? And, well, yes, they are your friends, but Lily was mine. I mean no offense,” an eye roll from her, “er, limited offense, when I suggest that Lily and Ginevra Potter are quite different people, despite superficial similarities.”

“I’ll have whatever you give yourself, Severus. And it’s Hermione. Okay, so if Lily and Ginny are nothing alike, to you, what do you make of Harry and Ginny?”

“That’s a much more interesting matter, I think. I believe that Ginevra is still fundamentally a fan of her husband, the same as she was at age eleven. She married her teen idol. Perhaps the appropriate comparison point for you might be Mr Gilderoy Lockheart?”

Hermione’s cheeks turned bright red, and she set her fork down sharply. “I wasn’t aware you knew about that.”

“I am accomplished in espionage, Miss Granger. Perhaps you noticed? Yes, imagine you had married a Lockheart who was not a fraud. Pretty, famous, human and disappointing in the usual ways, but every bit the symbol you and the rest of the world remember from your youth. It’s a certain sort of dream come true, but it’s a bit childish, don’t you agree?”

“Hermione. Putting aside my own youthful interests, I don’t know if I can agree. Ginny and Harry are parents to three children, they’ve been married since they were teens, and they’re both nuts for each other. They’re still young, certainly, but their relationship is firmly one between two adults.”

“You misunderstand me. The daily realities of their lives aren’t my focus. I’m suggesting that their union fundamentally includes the nature of their initial relationship, that between a fan and their idol. Ginevra is a strong-willed individual, and Potter has many faults but is not domineering, yet they will always have some element of that early power dynamic between them.”

Hermione sat quietly for a while, twisting a curl around her finger. She appeared to be thinking of something else when she hesitantly asked, “So do you think a power imbalance like that can never be... replaced? With something new? If two people first meet in one context, that dynamic will be inherent to their relationship forever?”

“No, why would you assume that?” Severus’ tone may have been too dismissive, judging by the way she recoiled. “Plenty of couples meet in the workplace and escape the power dynamic quickly.”

“How about other examples? Like, uh, age differences or education?”

“As in someone who was a head student when their partner started their first year? It would take time, certainly, for both to reach an appropriate age and for the distinctions of Hogwarts to fade. But yes, I think that would be possible.”

“Good,” Hermione offered a bit too quickly. She surely had a different relationship on her mind, and it took her a moment to continue. “So... why not Harry and Ginny? They’re only a year apart, and she’s got a high public profile herself, and she’s been through many of the same experiences in the Second Wizarding War as he has.”

“Miss Granger, no one is as famous, or has endured as much turmoil, as Harry Potter.”

“Hermione. And you have, Severus.” She delivered this line with such conviction that Severus couldn’t escape, and she reinforced her message by placing her hand delicately on his arm. He felt trapped for being seen, and he was entirely uncomfortable. They sat together for minutes this way, her small hand radiating warmth and acceptance into his forearm, until she seemed to realize that he could not talk freely when he was under focus. She withdrew.

“If that’s true, then you are in the same camp as myself and Potter,” he deflected uneasily. She seemed to perk back up at that—perhaps the awkward patch could be forgotten. “Regardless, Ginevra was not a major part of the war, and her current fame is as much a result of her marriage as any independent actions. If Potter’s fame hadn’t been part of her initial attraction to him, perhaps you would be right, and their relationship could shed the imbalance after a period of adjustment. However, that’s not the case.

“Do not mistake my point: I believe they can have a supportive and affectionate relationship regardless. But his implicit power will manifest in many ways throughout their lives. Can you truly imagine that Ginevra wanted to name two of her children after her in-laws? That she imagined her life playing out in Grimmauld place, with Kreacher and the Black legacy, no matter how redecorated? That she—no, well, as Molly’s girl, she likely did expect to end her career early and raise children.”

“Right-o on that one, Severus. But, yes, you’re correct. You’re infuriatingly correct!” He huffed a laugh at her pretend tantrum. “I hadn’t thought about how Ginny would feel to give up naming rights to all three of her children—you know Albus Severus was Harry’s idea—or to live in the Black residence, especially so far away from her family. Did you know he’s raising the children to root for both Gryffindor and Slytherin in Quidditch? She’s always grumbling about Harry putting up Slytherin banners in the boys’ rooms. Harry’s totally priming his kids to revere Uncle Sev as much as Uncle Sirius and Grandparents Potter.”

Severus blanched. “You lot disgust me.”

“Yes, well, I’d rather not think of you as Uncle Sev, either. But, okay, I think I concede to your analysis of Harry and Ginny. I think you’re missing a few things, like that Ginny spent that year with Tom Riddle’s diary and Harry spent years with Riddle in his head, but I truly hadn’t considered how his fame and her idolization might still shape their marriage, and I think you’re quite right for pointing it out. You know, you’re the smartest person I’ve ever known,” she babbled enthusiastically, a mountain brook during the spring thaw, “and I don’t know why it took me so long to put you on the task of analyzing the people we know! This is as fun as that time you shared that book of Regency-era climate charms that inspired your ever-present billow.” He glared, but she was undeterred. “I know, I know, that secret stays between us. I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t figure it out, I do have the charms mastery. 

“Anyway, I’m going to see baby Lily again tonight, so I think it’s time to wrap this up. You could come if you liked, Harry would be thrilled. No? Okay, but as payment for hiding you from Harry, could you finally tell me where you get this torte? You know I’ve been dying to find out for ages.”

“Miss Granger, I fear if I ever answered that, you would stop asking me around,” Severus teased as he gathered his notes.

“Hermione. And I assure you, I can think of some other reasons for you to keep coming around.” Her face was pink from the exertion of tidying, and she avoided his eyes as he turned to leave.

“Yes, we have established that I am excellent gossip. Goodnight, Miss Granger.”

He missed her squeaking “Hermione!” as he closed the door.


	3. Lily and James

“Last week, you told me Ginny was nothing like Lily Potter,” Hermione started. Severus groaned, anticipating that this would lead nowhere good.

“I’ve never really heard anyone talk about Lily and James as a couple. People talk about how much they loved Harry, or how brave they were, but what was their relationship like?”

“Miss Granger, you understand the absurdity of asking me this question?”

“Hermione. And yes, I get the myriad reasons this is a stupid conversation to have with you, Severus, but everyone else who could talk about them is dead.” She let the statement hang in the air for a moment longer than necessary as Severus shifted in his own discomfort. “But you’re my friend, and you’re smart, and you’re the hottest gossip in town,” she grinned wickedly. He gave an ever-suffering sigh before answering.

“If we’re going to do this, I demand a better seat than your awful dining set. May we adjourn to the sitting room?”

“Yes, Severus, make yourself comfortable! I’ll refill the tea.”

Once they were settled, he began. “Potter had been pursuing Lily from the day they met. I should know; I had been doing the same thing. Most boys did. Lily was magnetic.

“Lily ignored his interest, same as she did to all of us. I should amend that: Lily aggressively spurned his interest, which was unique among her many suitors. Perhaps I should have anticipated their relationship, given this information. In all fairness, I was a child.” Hermione snorted into her tea, and Severus felt quite proud of himself.

“She ignored Potter for as long as she was friends with me, in her sixth year she took a break from black-haired boys entirely, and she came back for her seventh year practically engaged to him. Merlin only knows what precipitated that.”

Hermione appeared to be waiting for Severus to continue, until it became painfully obvious that he considered the matter done. He watched with some amusement as she extended her foot to nudge his leg, apparently hoping that she could prod him along. He relented, for her sake.

“Yes, yes. Potter adored Lily. I should be thankful, I supposed, because Sirius Black and Lily would have been much harder to watch. Potter was a self-absorbed prat, and he relished attention, but he was never a womanizer, and his devotion to Lily was plain. Black would never have been satisfied with just Lily.”

“Why James, do you think?”

“I am not the man to discuss whatever merits James Potter could claim.”

“Okay, but you have to give me something,” she whined. Severus rolled his eyes at her familiarity. 

“Miss Granger, I truly do not know, and I think I may have a bit of personal bias on the matter. From my perspective, after my relationship with Lily... ended, she spent a year shagging her way through every Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff boy of reasonable age, and then re-emerged from a summer break discussing wedding venues with Potter. They married less than a year out of Hogwarts, had a child soon after, and then they _died_.”

Severus knew he had chilled the atmosphere, but he had little remorse. Hermione knew this was a dangerous game, gossiping about dating and romance with a man like himself. He ignored her glum stare until she broke the silence.

“I’m sorry, Severus. I shouldn’t have pushed you. Perhaps... perhaps I should turn in for tonight.” And with that, he was soundly dismissed, as Hermione gathered their dishes off to the kitchen. He saw himself out of her flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, they both really stepped in it. Hermione just has to push, and Severus is never going to have an easy time with this one.
> 
> Also, what *were* Lily and James like as a couple? I’m surprised we never really got that from Sirius or Remus.
> 
> Short chapter today, so I’ll have another short one up later this week. Thanks for dropping by!


	4. Cousins Black

“Severus, what do you know about all of the Blacks of your generation? There were an awful lot of them.” Severus looked up from his copy of _Potions Quarterly_ , where he had been scrawling rude notes on a particularly insipid article about stinksap. _Surprisingly mild-tasting result, my arse_ , he thought.

“Severus, the Blacks? Sirius and Regulus, and their cousins?” Hermione prompted again from her corner of the couch, where she had already set aside parchment and quill in favor of staring him down.

“Fucking mongrel, Sirius. Regulus was a decent sort. The sisters are interesting, though Narcissa and Lucius, the couple to whom I am closest, merit their own discussion some day.” Hermione smiled at the inherent promise in his statement. “I forget who was older, Andromeda or Bellatrix, but both were gone from Hogwarts before I started. I only overlapped with Cissy for two years.

“If I’ve got my story straight, Andromeda had been promised to Rodolphus Lestrange when she eloped with Ted Tonks. Blood purity was certainly important to the Blacks, but I would think her family would have eventually restarted some relationship with her if she hadn’t broken an engagement to marry Ted. That put the Blacks in a disadvantageous position with the Lestranges, and that branch of the Blacks had no male heir. Bellatrix and Rodolphus were hastily arranged in the wake of Andromeda’s departure. You saw firsthand how that turned out.”

Hermione suppressed a shiver at the thought of _The Lestranges_ , that awful unit somehow worse than either of its death-eating halves. “Do you know what would have happened with Bellatrix if she hadn’t been made to step in for Andromeda? Good choice on Andromeda’s part, by the by. I imagine one day with Rodolphus was enough to send her running.”

“I’m not sure. I was quite young when this happened, and had not been... fully adopted into pureblood society at the time. I imagine Bella would have been promised to another family—I think there was a Parkinson male around the right age for her.”

Hermione wrinkled her nose in apparent distaste. “‘Male,’ ugh, like they’re animals for breeding. I hate the way Wizarding society approaches family.”

“Indeed, Miss Granger. One can marry a muggleborn, or one can remain a bachelor. I failed at the first but have made quite good work on the second.”

“Severus! We’ll find you a muggleborn, I dare say.” She grinned widely, leaning toward him across the cushions. Severus had the distinct feeling she wanted to touch him, squeeze his shoulder or something equally revolting, and he shrunk back against the armrest.

Undeterred, Hermione continued. “So being a Black sister was apparently dire, excepting perhaps Narcissa, who is enough of a story to merit her own conversation. I rather think Lucius Malfoy is dire, but I guess it is a matter of perspective. What about the boys, Sirius and Regulus?”

Severus thought for long minutes while Hermione waited. Hesitantly, he began, “The mutt was an unforgivable womanizer. He slept with almost every girl who overlapped his time at Hogwarts, starting from an age that was much too young. He was a discredit even to the most ignoble House of Black. 

“Regulus—Regulus was a friend, for a time. He was two years younger than me, and I did get to know him in my later years at Hogwarts. He—he could have been a great man, if he had lived. I’ve known very few who dared to oppose the Dark Lord within his own ranks, and Regulus, well. 

“Anyway. Regulus didn’t date, really, and he passed quite young. He would have had difficulty dating his preferred type publicly, at the time.” Severus stalled out, here, and hoped Hermione might save him. He looked at her pleadingly until she seemed to understand.

“Oh. Regulus liked—yes, I see.” She hummed to herself, her sweet voice filling the air on which Severus was choking. “Perhaps Sirius was drawing attention away from his brother.” She appeared to ponder this thought for a moment. Severus continued to struggle against drowning, and hoped she didn’t notice. “If Regulus, well, if anyone had noticed he—it might not have been good for him, the last Black heir after Sirius was disowned, yeah? Sirius’ dating caused such a fuss that I doubt anyone cared what Regulus was up to, as long as he wasn’t causing trouble like his older brother.”

Severus stood abruptly. “I’m taking my leave for the evening. Thank you, again, for hosting. Goodnight, Miss Granger.”

To his stiff, retreating form, Hermione offered a confused goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter to finish out the week. 
> 
> I feel like the Black family would have been a version of the Weasleys, but for the older set? I mean, all those cousins! Think about the romantic dramas from when the girls were at Hogwarts.


	5. Draco and Astoria

“Okay, I’m ready to understand pureblood relationships. Tell me about Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy.”

“Miss Granger,” Severus drawled, “you are decidedly not ready to understand pureblood society if you name the Malfoys as your archetypal couple.”

She huffed in apparent frustration and tossed a balled parchment scrap at his face. “It’s Hermione, you git. And why not? Why can’t we talk about them? Is Cissy that precious to you?” Her grimace only barely preceded another thrown missile.

Severus relented, pretending to bow out in the face of her deadly onslaught with a wry grin. “Let’s discuss Malfoys, the Younger, instead,” he deflected. “Have you encountered Draco and Astoria since they wed?”

“Yes!” Hermione brightened considerably at his concession. “Astoria is a kind woman, she’s always good for saving me from at least one terrible conversation at those awful Ministry events. Malfoy and I aren’t quite recovered from our school days, but I understand that he and Harry have come to a resolution and their sons are acquainted. Scorpius, really, what sort of name is that?”

“One no worse than Albus Severus, surely.”

“Only the Albus part is regrettable. Anyway, I like Astoria well enough, and I understand that the Malfoys and the Greengrasses arranged their betrothal, but I’ve always wondered: why the younger sister? Daphne Greengrass was our age, why not choose her?”

Severus uncrumpled Hermione’s earlier projectiles, worried the creases flat, and folded them them into neat squares. He caught a glimpse of her eyes following his fingers as he spoke. “The Greengrass family had two daughters and no sons. Therefore, it falls to the eldest daughter to carry the mantle as scion of the Greengrass line, at least until an eligible male cousin with the Greengrass name can be located. Miss Daphne Greengrass is busy playing society girl on behalf of the House of Greengrass right now, something that would have been impossible had she married into the House of Malfoy.”

“But why?”

“Running two wealthy pureblood households would be far too much responsibility for one witch, even with an army of house elves. Anyway, the Greengrasses will line up a male heir with the family name, and the elder Miss Greengrass will marry the heir to some respectable pureblood line of lesser financial standing, thereby indebting that house to her own for many generations.”

“Couldn’t Astoria have done the same thing, though?”

“The eldest sister is more valuable, Miss Granger. The Greengrasses wouldn’t give their most valuable asset to the Malfoys, when they could use one of lesser value to accomplish the same alliance.”

“Hermione. And ugh!” Hermione groaned in apparent disgust, her pretty features twisting unpleasantly. “This is all so crass. And insulting! I never liked any of your Slytherin lot when I was in school, but even I know they’re all people and deserve better in life than being married and bred like livestock to ensure the continuance of money and power. It’s a revolting concept and it’s just reinforcing the blood biases we should be tearing down.” 

She was on a roll now, hands waving wildly. Severus wanted to catch one and hold it, the way you might capture a butterfly in order to marvel at its vitality. He wondered idly if her hands would flap about like a trapped butterfly if he were to grab one. “Astoria and—and Draco deserve to be happily married to someone they love. Yes, even Malfoy! I can admit that. And Daphne, she should be able to marry someone on her own schedule, not when her extended family has settled on some far-flung baby cousin to take her place in the hierarchy. And the gender dynamics! A woman being worth this or that, but always less than a man, that’s absurd. If Ron and Pansy can buck tradition—“

“ _Ron and Pansy_ are following the exact tradition I have just laid out.” Severus snapped out of his reverie and bore down on her with unfeeling eyes. She stilled, looking somewhat troubled. “Ronald Weasley is a male heir to the House of Weasley, which is a respectable—emphasis on the able, as in yet-to-come-but-possible—pureblood line dating back a millennia, though recent generations have been financially unsound. Pansy Parkinson is a pureblood witch from a family of great wealth that stands to benefit more from an association with a family on the side of the Light than from any monetary gain. Parkinson marries Weasley, ensuring a few generations of wealthy Weasleys until they breed it all away again, and gives the Parkinson name enough of a boost to escape the muck of the Wizarding Wars. Their alleged romantic attraction is the spark that helps either side begin to contemplate an arrangement, but trust that their union hardly _bucks tradition_ , unless your traditions are so narrow-minded as to see pureblood witches and wizards as only existing in the Hogwarts house of Slytherin.”

“But—“

“But nothing, Miss Granger. Hogwarts is a storied part of British Wizardom, but its houses will always be secondary to the houses tied to a family’s blood.”

Hermione exhaled slowly, her gaze thoughtful and distant. Severus felt unnervingly like she was looking at something behind him, like the mass of his body was not present with her in this room. He didn’t like the thought that Hermione would forget him, but equally, he couldn’t contemplate the disrespect of interrupting her.

Finally, she spoke. “Wow. Severus, I would have never recognized half of this.”

“For all of your youthful fascination with Wizardom, you never did put an effort into learning Wizarding culture.” He softened the blow with a quirk of his lips, which he hoped passed for a smile. “This culture is hardly perfect, but it is a common touchstone that guides your friends’ behavior. It is hardly accidental that families like the Weasleys, the Longbottoms, or the Potters would retain their pureblood status until the late twentieth century. One can carry prejudice in some areas of life even if they’re seemingly open and accepting in others.”

Hermione gasped, as apparently Severus had not yet exhausted her capacity for surprise. “But—But Harry is a half-blood! Everyone knew Lily Potter was a muggleborn witch, and James married her anyway. And then Harry married Ginny, and the Weasley children’s spouses include a quarter-Veela, and, oh, I guess Neville married Hannah Abbott, so perhaps I concede the Longbottoms...” Her mind was clearly racing, aching to deny his implicit assertion. 

“Harry Potter is the most famous wizard of our time, scion of the wealthy Potters, descendent of the Peverells. His mixed blood will easily be forgiven in a few generations, or haven’t you noticed that he is invited to many of the society parties? No, Miss Granger, I didn’t claim he attended the parties, just that the Shacklebolts and the Macmillans and the Prewetts invite him. If Scorpius Malfoy really does befriend the Potter spawn, I could be sharing my Christmas celebrations with Harry Potter in sixty years, Merlin forbid.

“I can’t account for Weasley taste, except to say that with broods that large and consistently male, at least one from each generation will breed pure.”

“Severus,” her eyes glinted dangerously, “you’re insulting my dear friends with your insinuations about their attitudes toward blood purity.”

And truly, tonight had gone on much longer, but the room felt icy in the same manner as the evening Hermione had asked about Lily Evans. Severus bit back his defensive instincts, not wanting to ruin another evening in their tenuous friendship.

“I apologize, Miss Granger.”

“Hermione.”

“Yes. I am sorry. I don’t wish to upset you. Blood purity has been a poison in my life since I was born, as I am a symbol of my own family’s failure to prevent the inevitable, and I am evidence of why many witches and wizards do not trust muggles with their culture. I... forget how much bitterness I carry from that upbringing. Suffice it to say, us half-breeds are rarely shown the merits of muggle culture, and many abandon it early in life. I do hope that your friends prove exceptions to their Wizarding family heritage.”

They sat in silence for a long while. Severus brooded, trying and failing not to think of his childhood. He contemplated saying goodnight, so long had they been sitting in independent thought, but he recognized that brooding about his family in Hermione’s company might stave off his worst impulses just a little longer. 

When he could focus again, he was surprised to find she had moved next to him on the couch. She placed her hand, that delicate butterfly, on his own as she spoke. “Thank you, Severus. It means a lot that you would share this with me, even if I have a difficult time appreciating some of your feelings. I think—I do understand some of what you’re saying. Harry was raised strictly muggle, like me, but he really has taken to everything magical since he started school, hasn’t he? I’m not sure he knows about mobile phones or portable computers or any muggle music at all. Goodness knows he doesn’t read muggle literature, but then, he never read Wizarding literature, either.

“I’ve always liked that about you, Severus. I mean, I know our friendship has been mostly academic until this past year, but I always noticed that you’d hum along to my muggle wireless, and that your pastries come from muggle shops. You’re in my mobile, you know, though we’ve never called. I think we exchanged numbers that week I said I might run late coming back from a conference, and you acted like it was the most normal thing in the world to have a mobile phone, which I suppose it is, if you’re a muggle. I just—I really don’t want to pry, please don’t feel like you have to respond to my babbling, but I notice that you’re actually comfortable in the muggle world and it’s always made me feel close to you in a way that I’m not with any other wizard.”

She smiled something private, like the expression was meant only for him.

“That’s... very flattering, Miss Granger.” A beat of time passed, then another, as she seemed to watch him expectantly. Severus supposed it was getting late, and turned away to pack up. “I’ll take my leave for the evening while I am still in your good graces. Thank you, as always, for hosting. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Severus,” she said with just the tiniest drop of disappointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted a chance to talk about Wizarding blood politics for a bit. I’m fascinated by the idea of “good” pureblood families, especially those that maintained their pureblood status post-Sacred 28. Severus, as a half-blood with a muggle (not muggleborn) parent, raised in the muggle world, seems like the type of person who could really easily resent their status and see them as hypocritical. 
> 
> Hermione strikes me as unlikely to question her friends’ families, but I imagine she would feel some distance from them over time, as they stay totally cemented in Wizardom and she, like, gets a cell phone or joins her local library.


End file.
